


And this one's for you

by Small_bump



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Aaron has a major love intrest in this fic that isn't Robert so be warned, After/during University, Alternative Universe - Journalism and Politics, Betrayal, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Linear Narrative, Plot Twists, Social class struggle, Weddings, dodgy political dealings, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_bump/pseuds/Small_bump
Summary: It's hot, Robert’s tugging at his shirt, hoping to get some air in to stop the sweating but at this point, it feels like a lost cause. He’s already ditched his blazer, throwing it across the empty barstool beside him. He can’t exactly take off his shirt, so Robert’s pretty much doomed, to over heat at his ex’s wedding of all places.What a way to go.(Or, a Journalism & politics au.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, just a couple of things before you dive into this first part. For starters, this is a non-linear narrative, but to make things clear during this story, we'll be time jumping through different parts of the past, but always come back to the present. 
> 
> Secondly, for the purposes of this story, there is only a one year age gap between Robert and Aaron. In the present time, Robert is twenty-six and Aaron is twenty-five. The timeline will become more clear as the story unfolds. 
> 
> Enjoy!

>  “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” — Oscar Wilde.  

 

I.

It's hot, Robert’s tugging at his shirt, hoping to get some air in to stop the sweating but at this point, it feels like a lost cause. He’s already ditched his blazer, throwing it across the empty barstool beside him. He can’t exactly take off his shirt, so Robert’s pretty much doomed, to over heat at his ex’s wedding of all places. _What a way to go._

The sun's just setting, a murky orange colour, that promises a peaceful night. Robert’s sat at the bar, drinking a glass of champagne, just wanting to _disappear._ He’s getting looks, of course, he is—the last person anyone expected to see at this thing. Only he was, he was _here._ Because Aaron had asked and well, even after all this time, even after everything they’d been through, Robert still couldn’t say no—he’d tried. Willed himself to say no, and just walk away for his own sanity, because watching Aaron marry anyone but him, was not something he ever wanted to witness. But Aaron had asked, voice unsure, and Robert had struggled. _Anxious_ ,but in the end, he was always going to say yes. 

“I didn’t think you had the guts to show Blondie _I’m impressed_.”

Robert clench’s his jaw and takes a deep breath before placing the glass down on the bar. “You know me, Robert Sugden, gluten for punishment.”

Faith Dingle was a vicious woman. Robert had quite liked her actually; she twirled men around her finger effortlessly, reeling them in with her charm and beauty. Even for her age, she could still pull, something she was never afraid to tell him, whenever Aaron and himself had visited. She's smart, and fun a combination that made her lethal. Out of all Aaron’s family members, he’d liked her best—well sans Liv, but that was another story altogether.

She hated him, although Faith probably hated him too. _Damn._

“I won't bite you know, don’t look so frightened,” she laughs.

“I’m not,” Robert says, perhaps a little too quickly. There are eyes, starting at the back of his head; it’s a little—no a lot unnerving. Robert isn’t all that comfortable having all eyes on him, even when Aaron and him were dating; he’d always shy away from the camera.

“Could have fooled me. But like I said _I’m impressed._ When Chas said Aaron had invited Robert Sugden, I was sure you’d be a no show.”

“Well Aaron asked me to so,” Robert says, voice trailing off. Perhaps that made him pathetic. Putting himself through _this,_ just because Aaron asked him too.

Faith lets out a tut, “I don’t understand having drinks before the wedding. I like a good gin as much as the next gal, but it’s hardly traditional.”

“Neither is two men getting married, but here we are.”

“Touché,” she smiles.

It’s weird—the whole conversation is weird. Robert expects her to chuck her gin right at his face, but instead, she nurses it, eyeing him up. Like she’s searching for something in his eyes, god knows what she’d hoping to find. Robert hasn’t got a clue.

“I’m not going to ruin the wedding if that’s what your thinking” Robert starts, “I’m not waiting for my moment to make a grand gesture, I’m just here because Aaron asked me to be.” He wants to make that clear. He isn’t going to ruin this wedding, that’s not going to happen. _Again._

“Pity, maybe you should.”

Before Robert has a chance to ask her, what she meant by that. A voice is calling her, from the crowd: a mass of ten people standing by one of the cocktail tables. She throws a wink Robert’s way, and then she’s gone. _Typical._

 

 

 

 

Victoria tells him on a Tuesday, Robert he’s just gotten back to his flat. After spending the weekend away on conference, smelling like the worst parts of an airport. His stiff, bone tired, and hungry because of course in the swarm of work they had been pushed onto his desk, he’d forgotten to book his flight. He’d ended up on Ryanair, and there was no way he was risking it after last time.

All he wants to do is curl up under the blankets with a good book; the last pop tart he knows is sitting in the bread-bin and just veg out till morning.

But the second his feet touch the floor of his flat; his phone starts to buzz in his trouser pocket. He could ignore most people, but Victoria wasn’t most. Even if it was just for a chat, even though he felt like could pass out from exhaustion he just couldn’t ignore her.

“Have you had a chance to read the paper today?” she asks. It’s an odd opening question, but Robert doesn’t think much of it at first.

He places his briefcase down on the dining table, leaning against its side “no why? I’ve been flying all day.”

She sighs, never a good sign. “Well maybe it’s better this way, Aaron’s getting married, saw the announcement in the paper, didn’t think it was his style.”

It’s not, but it is his family's, just like them to broadcast something like this on the paper, for all their friends to see.

“They’re show-off’s I don’t know why you're surprised. Anyway Vic, look I just got back, and all I want is to lay down on the couch—"

“Wait” she says, panicked “did…did you not hear what I just said.”

Robert bites his lip, using the base of his palm to rub the tiredness out of his eyes “they’ve been dating for ages Vic, getting married was probably the next logical step.”

“The next logical step? Robert this is Aaron we’re talking about.”  

“Leave it, Vic, I’m fine.” He _is._ It had been a while ago—him and Aaron. Standing in his own apartment, it feels like a lifetime ago now. Like a dream, and he’d woken up, only reality was more complicated than any dream Robert could have concocted in his head.  

“Maybe I should come over,” she suggests. There’s a tapping sound from the other side of the line. She’s doing that thing, tapping the table; she always does it, when she’s nervous.

“No, it’s alright. Like I said, I just want an early night.”

After he hangs up, Robert walks into the back room and sits on the bed. He reaches underneath and feels out for the box he knows is stowed there. It’s a tattered thing, painted half yellow; with cheap acrylic paint was he was a kid. When he was little Robert had kept toys, cheap tat he’s mum would bring home from the mini mart. Later after the farm had been sold, everything that Robert truly cared about, sat in that box.

He places it on his lap, whipping the dust from the lid. He's eyes land on what his looking for as soon as he opens it. It’s a bit of them, _him and Aaron_ —before they were even _them_ really. They’d only just meet, Lucy one of Robert’s flatmates had shoved them together and snapped the picture before Robert had even known what was happening.

He looks at it sometimes, stares at the faded orange photo. The cheap film was never meant to last, and Robert knows one day it’ll fade completely. It’ll be gone, and maybe then he’ll finally be able to move on.

It had been his choice; Aaron had been the one who’d betrayed _him._ So why was he getting on with his life, happily marrying someone else, while Robert was sitting in his flat alone, unable to move on?

Angry, he shoves the photo back into the box, almost crumbling it with the force. His stuck in the past, he _knows it._ Knows he needs to just man up and move on, after everything that had happened; moving on was the only option.

Aaron lied. He _did._ Robert needs to stop thinking about them, stop thinking about him. They’re dead, just that potted plant Diane had got him. It sat on the windowsill in the kitchen wilted and brown. Robert was rubbish at those sorts of things, he’d told Diane as much but she’d bought it anyway and just like Robert had predicted. He’d forgotten to water it, and before he knew it, it was dead.

Just like him and Aaron, just like _them.`_

“You need to move on Sugden,” he orders himself, slapping his thighs as he stands up.

It’s time.

 

 

 

 

Cain corners him in the bathroom, and it’s about time. This was exactly the welcome Robert had been expecting; he can put Faith down to just some weird fluke.

“You’ve got some nerve mate.”

Robert jumps, twisting around, wet hands flicking water into the air. The taps still running, and for a second, Robert’s at a loss for words—he doesn’t know what to do. He hasn’t been in the same space as Cain since it all went down, and now his here. _Alone,_ with him and Robert can’t even think. He wants to lash out, but he can’t. This isn’t about either of them, it’s about Aaron and even after everything he can’t find it in himself to ruin this for Aaron. He just can’t.

He swallows hard “excuse me” he makes to leave the bathroom. Quick strides towards the door, but Cain presses a hand to his chest. Forcing him to stop, to stay, and it’s hot—too hot in here, there’s only one small window and it’s shut. It’s suffocating, Robert can’t _breathe,_ he can’t.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Cain snarls, gabbing his finger right in Robert’s face.

“What? Tell the truth” he voice trembles, and he inwardly winces. He wants to stand up for himself, but he just can’t. He feels like a kid on wobbly legs, too scared to stand up to the bully on the playground.

Cain laughs, “the truth? Mate, you’ve got no clue. Go around spreading lies about innocent people, ruining their careers, and you're going to get hurt.”

“It’s not a lie!” Robert shouts, taking a step back. He finds it in himself to move again, the shock finally wearing off “I know what you did, and now so does everyone else. Call me a liar all you want, it’s the truth!”

Someone walks in then, some bloke wearing a grey suit. “Everything alright?” he asks, question directed at Cain.

Cain smiles, clasping Robert’s shoulder tightly “yeah, we were just fooling about, me and Sugden go way back.”

Robert nods “yeah, course.”

Cain let’s go then, walks straights out of the bathroom without so much as a glance in Robert’s direction. He can still feel Cain’s hand on his shoulder; Robert _hates_ him, hates everything Cain’s done to his family, to his memories.

“Are you sure your alright?”

Robert smacks his lips together, stuffing his hands into his pockets “yeah” he says, a little breathless.

 

 

 

 

Robert runs into Aaron, three months after hearing about his engagement. His late, parliament having run long and hailing a taxi having been a nightmare. The restaurant had been Suzanne’s idea; it was some posh place, where Robert knows the bill will come end up in the triple digits. Suzanne’s not coy about her love affair with wine, and Robert’s not opposed to a little fine dining when his not paying.

 _The Sun_ is to be exact; usually, Robert wouldn’t go near them with a tent pole. They’re vile, they spread more lies than truth and scaremongering is a code their journalists live by. But Suzanne, head of they’re investigative unit if one could even call it _that,_ had been contacting with a lead. A legitimate lead, that claimed to have the proof that universities were spending government funds on payout’s to employees who had threatened to go to the police over parents paying to have their children’s grades altered.  

It was a massive story, and well Robert couldn’t pass it up. No matter which paper had been the one contacted. These sorts of stories cement journalists in the ivory wall of fame forever and Robert intended to get his name up there with the greats.

When he walks in, he spots Suzanne to the far right, typing away on her phone, per  _usual._ He's out of wind from running the last leg of the journey, because of course traffic had been a nightmare because Robert was having one of _those_ days. With the meter running, Robert's nerves got the best of him. Even to this day, making a pretty good salary Robert’s jittery about handing over large amounts of cash and as the meter had racked up Robert could feel this taxi ride was going to cost him a pretty penny. So he’d paid, got out and ran down the street. If all it did was serve to remind him, he needed to excise more.

Just as he makes his way towards her, a figure slams right into him. It was one of those _days_ honestly. He almost trips, but a hand to his upper arm keeps him from falling.

“Robert?”

His eyes widen, looking up from his feet to catch Aaron’s face starting at him. It’s his hand on Robert’s arm, Aaron’s. Of course it was Aaron, of course, it was.

“Aaron,” he says, voice parched. He could do with a glass of water, or ten. “What are you doing here?”

“Just having lunch? That’s kind of what you do in restaurants,” Aaron laughs.

Robert winces “right, sorry. It’s been a day and it’s only lunch time.”

“You okay?” Aaron asks. His wearing a face full of concern, or perhaps its pity Robert can’t quite tell. He kicks himself, at the feeling that surfaces at the bottom of his stomach, knowing Aaron still cared about him. Who cares? Aaron doesn’t deserve those feelings; he deserves _nothing,_ absolutely nothing.

“I’m fine. Got stuck with parliament duty this morning, and getting a taxi was a nightmare that’s all. Look Aaron is was nice to see you, but I’ve got a business lunch and I’m already late so.”

“Oh yeah, of course. Best leave you to it.” He removes his hand from Robert’s arm, and it feels cold like something’s missing but he shakes it off. He’s being ridiculous. He is.

He's turning to leave when –“Robert.” It stops him in his tracks, makes him turn back to look at Aaron and now he can really take him in. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, tailored to fit just right, his signature gelled hair doesn’t have an ounce of product in it. He looks different, _grown up._ Robert guesses that’s what happens, you graduate and become an adult, things change. For starters he isn’t wearing jeans and t-shirts anymore. Aaron looks good though, confident, more sure of himself and Robert’s jealous, jealous that he's developed into this person without him. Jealous that he still looks so damn good, and that it _still_ makes his stomach flip.  

“I had them send you and invitation to the wedding.”

His shocked, _that_ had blind sided him. He hadn’t expected Aaron to invite him, to be honest, he didn’t even think he was still on Aaron’s radar.

“Really? Even after last time?” he jokes, because he doesn’t really know what else to say, no other words will come out. He wants to ask why, but he can’t.

Aaron laughs, “What’s a Dingle wedding without a little drama eh? I understand if you don’t want to come, but it would mean a lot to me if you could be there.”

Robert opens his mouth to speak –“Robert, what’s the holdup? I’ve got a glass of wine with your name on it.”

“Sorry, I was keeping him. I need to dash off anyway supposed to be meeting mum in town. I’ll see ya, yeah?” Aaron leaves the question hanging in the air, hopeful tone laced into his words. He doesn’t let Robert answer, walks away before Robert's has even recovered.

“Wasn’t that Aaron Dingle?”

“Yep.”

 

 

 

 

They'd all been ushered into the church hall, and honestly, it’s a little _ironic_ but Robert really doesn’t have a clue who Aaron’s marrying, sans the quick Google search at three in the morning on a particularly low night. For all, he knows _this_ could be Aaron’s finance’s dream wedding, but it isn’t Aaron’s—he knows it isn't.

The churches hot, it does nothing for the sweat patch’s forming on Robert’s back. Couldn’t they have splashed out for a church with an air conditioner? Do church’s even have air conditioners? Or is that considered not being humble enough?

“You look lost, picked the seat closest to the door to make a quick getaway once Aaron’s seen ya?”

Robert hadn’t even noticed Liv sit down next to him in the pew. Robert had expected Aaron’s family to ignore him, but they seem to be going out of their way to speak to him.

Aaron’s got Liv into a dress, it’s purple. Robert didn’t think that was _possible._ Back when Robert had known her, she’d have shoved you the stairs for even suggesting she wear a dress but here she sat, dress and all. She’s grown up too. He needs to stop being surprised by that, _time._

Life goes on. It just does. No matter what’s happened, it goes on. Maybe it’s meant to be comforting, but Robert just finds it sad.

“Of course not, I just don’t want to be in the way, that’s all.”

Liv shrugs “you’re not,” she says, fingers playing with the end of her plait. “I didn’t think you’d show, to be honest.”

Robert huffs “seems to be the consensus from everyone.”

“It’s not a bad _thing_ per say, I just didn’t realise how much you still loved him. I mean you must do, to put yourself through this.”

“Liv I—I’ll always care about Aaron, of course, I will, but I don’t love him anymore.”

She tut’s, a trait she’d picked up off Faith “you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t” she says, biting her lip “you know I hated you after you called it off with Aaron. He was so sad, but then he’d hurt you first, so maybe it was _even._ ”

Robert sighs, he wants to tell her that it being _even_ doesn’t mean it’s over. He wants to tell her that Aaron hurting doesn’t make any of this right. Doesn’t make Robert feel better in the slightest if anything it makes him feel worse.

He’d broken Aaron’s heart, and it doesn’t make him feel any better about it just because Aaron had broken his first.

“You showed.”

Robert looks up and Aaron’s standing there, hovering over both of them. Everything he was about to tell Liv dies in his throat.

“I said I would.”

Liv stands, “I’ll just go make sure everything’s ready.”

She squeezes past Aaron, trading places with her brother. Aaron sits beside him, a little more space left between them, then when Liv had been occupying that seat.

“She’s practically a mini adult,” Robert says.

Aaron nods, smiling “yeah, she’ll be eighteen next year. Where did all the time go eh?”

Robert thinks _this_ is the moment. If he was in some cheesy romantic comedy this would the moment he’d tell Aaron he was making a colossal mistake. That Robert still wanted him, still wanted to be with him. Stuff the past, they were meant to be.

But he doesn’t because the past means something, it means a _hell of a lot_ to Robert, it’s something he just can’t shake. Can’t just kiss Aaron, and forget everything’s that’s happened, Robert just isn’t wired that way.

“Why am I here?” he asks instead. Asks the question he's wondered all along.

“Because we’re ma—”

“We’re _not_ mates.”

“Maybe, but I care about ya, and I wanted the people I cared about to be here. It’s selfish I know.”

“Yeah, it is. It is selfish.”

Aaron shakes his head, taken aback “you didn’t have to come.”

“But you knew,” he says, mouth dry “you knew I’d come if you asked me to and you still did.”

Aaron looks like he wants to say something but there’s a sequel of excitement “it’s time!”

It’s Belle, one of Aaron’s cousins. Dressed, in the same shade as Liv, obviously part of the wedding party. Aaron sighs, “better get into place then shouldn't I?” he stands, shuffling out of the pew, and down the aisle.    

It dawns on Robert, it’s really happening. Aaron getting married is no longer a concept, it’s real, and it’s happening, _right now._ It’s a lot; it’s all just too much.

 

 

 

 

Robert get’s the wedding invitation on a Sunday; it’s appropriate he thinks because Sunday was always his and Aaron’s favourite day of the week. It was all about lazing around, soft cuddles, and kisses under blankets. It was the things he loved most about being in a relationship, minus the sex of course.

It sits on his kitchen counter for two weeks, three days before the RSVP card needs to be mailed back. It’s Katie who finds it. She and Andy are over for the weekend sleeping on his sofa bed, needing a break from the crowded pub. Victoria’s back home for the summer, the semester having ended. Robert remembers that all, of them crawling on top of each other, it’s been that way since they moved in when his dad had married Diane. He supposed it was better than the hole they were living in before, but there just wasn’t enough space for all of them. Katie and Andy were still saving up for a place of their own, only due to the fact that they’d gotten it into their heads to buy a farm. _Wiley’s_ to be exact, it’s been abandoned since they were kids, but the pair had concocted a plan to do it up. Revive the Sugden name, another thing that had long since died.

“Who’s wedding have you got yourself invited to?” Katie asks, opening the envelope to have a peek inside.

Katie had never really been big on personal space. All the time Robert’s known her, she had no problem making herself welcome, even when sometimes it was obvious she wasn’t wanted.

Robert’s known her for years, all the way back when his father still owned the farm. She’d moved to the village with her mother, after a trying divorce. After she moved Katie didn’t see much of her dad, but from what Robert knows, there’s no love or loss between them.

Andy had been smitten with Katie from the start, for a while Robert had thought he’d stood a chance, but as time went by it became apartment that Katie and Andy were just made for each other. Robert had backed off, mended his broken heart and found someone else to fawn over.

“Aaron’s,” he says, not bothering to take his eyes off the telly.

“Bit insensitive of him to invite you, after _everything._ He's got some nerve.” Andy scoffs.

Robert looks up, to see them both exchanging looks and sighs, “it’s fine, I don’t care. Like I told Victoria, we’ve been over for ages. He's moved on.”

“Still, can’t believe he invited you. Are you going to go?”

“Of course he isn’t Katie, why would he do that?”

“Well I don’t know, but if my ex invited me to they’re wedding I’d be curious is all!”

“Would the two of you quit it? I don’t know what I’m going to do. Now shut up, Jeremy Kyle is on and I can’t hear over you two bickering.”

Later on that night, Robert found himself with a few hours alone. Katie and Andy had wanted to go to the pub down the road, but Robert didn't feel up to it, so they’d left him on the couch “moping” in Katie’s words.

His eyes kept, flashing to the invitation still sat on the counter. Now that Katie had brought it up, Robert couldn’t  _not_ think about it.

He could do it. He could _go._ Of course, he could, Robert didn’t love Aaron anymore, he _didn’t._ So watching him walk down the aisle with someone else shouldn’t be a big thing.

He walks over to the counter and pulls the invitation out of the envelope. It’s an August wedding, summer weddings were always hell. Robert wonders if it had been Aaron’s idea, or this Jacob’s. He doesn’t think he really wants to know the answer to that.

In frustration, he goes to throw it in the bin but he can’t. He won't let that family have the last word, he just _won’t._

He grabs the pen from on top of the microwave and checks yes, to attend, but no to a plus one. He needs to do this alone, besides there wasn’t a person he knows, who’d think this was a good idea and go along with him. They’d all think they were enabling him. But this wasn’t that.

In the early hours of the next morning, Katie and Andy passed out on the couch; Robert quietly lets himself out of the flat and walks down the road to the post-box. There’s a morning chill running through the air, and Roberts exposed in a shirt and running shorts but he doesn’t mind. It wakes him up, it’s not a mistake, his fully awake when he does it. Slides the piece of paper through the slot. And it’s done, his _going._ That’s when the dread sets in. What had he done?

 

 

 

 

Music’s playing, a beautiful harp melody that wafts through the air. From his peripheral vision, he sees Jacob walking down the aisle flanked on either side by his parents and–it’s wrong. Because Aaron should be walking down that aisle, ready to meet Robert at the end, only _their not._ Aaron’s stood there, back straight, tall and proud in a way Robert’s never been, not about _this,_ not about two men being together.

He wants to say something, promises to himself be damned, he wants to open his mouth and ruin this wedding. Ruin it, because it’s not _them_ getting married, and sitting in this church, he realises he wants that more than anything. _Anything._

He can’t though, he can’t do this, can’t ruin this. Aaron’s happy, and even after everything, Robert knows his not capable of ruining that. He watches Jacob reach the altar; watches Aaron slide his hand to the small of his back. Watches he’s parents take their seats. He can just make out Chas’s bright smile, happy, _she’s happy_ for them.

And just like that Robert’s done. He stands up as discreetly as possible and let’s himself out of the church. Sits down on the front steps and pulls the packet of cigarettes he’d stuffed inside the pocket of his blazer that morning.

His fucking _stupid,_ to think he could do this. His stupid because even after all that’s happened he still loves the boy, with the soft eyes and carefree smile. The boy who had held his hand, and pulled him into his world, a world Robert often felt he never truly fitted into.

Jacob came from money, he was just the sort of person Aaron was meant to end up with. One of his own kind. When Robert had meet Aaron he had £50 to his name, and enough debt to way him down for at _least_ ten years. Aaron had never made him feel like that though like they were different. They were in love, they were the same in every way that mattered, Aaron made him feel valid, _important_. Until it had all come crumbling down into an unsalvageable mess.

Here’s the thing about the truth, once you know, you can’t unknow. You can’t unsee or unhear Robert had tried. Willed himself to believe it wasn’t true, but he couldn’t, the truth was all he saw, and well that had been the beginning of the end.

He couldn’t forget, and he couldn’t forgive. So what was left after that? Nothing, there was nothing left, expect two broken people, in an impossible situation.

Behind him, the church doors open, Robert thinks _it’s over._ It’s all over now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me, it's been a few weeks, but I was concentrating on 'for everything there a season,' and myself, I can't write more then one fic at a time, so I had to get that done before I focused on this _but_ I am in love with this chapter. You might be wondering why I gave away such a big plot point in the second chapter ;) but trust me, there is more to come.

II.

It happens in a  _flash,_ one moment he's having the time of his life, truly enjoying himself and feeling like he belongs in a way he never has. Because the crowd The Dingle's, surround themselves with, just ooze importance, it's all  _holiday's in Tenerife_ and the next  _charity event their hosting_ for whatever cause they happen to feel passionate about this week. But it's different this time because they'd stolen a bottle of Champagne from the bar, and taken in the city skyline from one of the suits Chas and Jason had booked out for the wedding party. It had been perfect until Aaron had been forced down to mingle by Zack, who apparently just had to introduce Aaron to a business partner.

That had left Robert alone, with no choice but try and make idle chit chat till Aaron got back. It's funny really, how one conversation could change everything, just one sentence could rock someone's entire world, and the speaker could not even be aware of what they've just done.

"Robert,  _please_ don't do this," Aaron begs, hand to Robert's arm. 

Robert's determined and way too  _drunk._ He yanks his hand free, grabbing the nearest glass from the table and a knife. Quickly, aware of Aaron behind him, he strides towards a chair, standing ungracefully onto it.

"Attention! Everyone can I please have everyone's attention," Robert shouts, using the knife, to clinking the glass. "I just want to make a toast to the  _happy couple,_ and let everyone know, a little bit of insight into the family everyone seems to idolise."

"Rob," Aaron tries again, Robert looks down for a second catches Aaron's watery eyes and  _almost stops. Almost_ but he can't because Aaron lied, he's a liar. It breaks Robert's heart, can feel it splinter, and threaten to crack. It hurts, and nothing is going to make it right, but the  _truth,_ having everyone know exactly what  _that_ family had done. At the very least it might make him feel a fraction better. 

Just as he opens his mouth, Robert spots two security guards crossing the room towards him.  _He laughs,_ a little maddening. "You can't just throw me out, not after everything you've done! So listen up ladies and gentlemen because I've got your next topic of conversation for weeks."

 

 

 

 

The church doors open, and suddenly Jacob's storming out, a face like thunder, and certainly not blissed out and happy which is what he'd been mere minutes ago. Robert's on his feet, in seconds, whipping his head around just in time to see Aaron run out, shock evident on his face. 

"Jake  _wait,_ you can't just leave—please."

"Like hell I can't, you said you were ready. Why the hell would you even ask me, Aaron? What game are you play?"

"I am ready! I was standing in that church, not minutes ago, ready to commit to ya for life." 

Robert turns to leave, awkwardness setting into his bones, he shouldn't be  _here._ He takes two steps when—"if that's the case, what the hell is he doing here?" Jacob points straight at him, and his frozen in his spot.

"He's just a mate, that's all," Aaron pleads. 

Jacob scoff's, "am I meant to be stupid enough to believe that?"

Robert finds it in himself to leave then, walks on wobbly legs out of the church gates, into the car park. The gravel, grinds underneath his feet, as he carries himself to his car. He feels a little light headed, god had he just ruined another Dingle wedding? Robert seems to be cursed, in more ways than one. Digging into his suit pocket, he pulls out his key and unlocks the door. A part of him wants to run, always wants to run, it's kind of his thing. The day of his mum's funeral, he'd bottled it. Couldn't even make it into the church, he'd run off into the cemetery and spent the funeral replaying the last conversation he'd had with his her.

Robert chooses  _flight_ every time because it's easier. Because if he's the one to run away, he doesn't have to deal with the chaos he leaves in his wake. He'd walked out of that  _other_ wedding—Chas and Jason's wedding said he piece and walked straight out, leaving Pompeii so to speak, to crumble around him.

A small part of him though wants to stay, to see it through, to know if they do actually get married. To watch the life he'd once thought he'd be having with Aaron, belong to another, to watch it finally disappear, to know once and for all it was never going to happen.

 _He runs._ Robert turns the key, in the ingestion slot, and gets the hell out of there. Drivers out of the car park, and down dimly lit streets, going the speed limit but tempted to go faster, to run faster, to feel okay again.

 

 

 

 

Robert meets Aaron on a Wednesday. It's one of Lucy's (his roommates) mid-week pub crawls, and she'd managed to drag him along. It's incredible what, playing 'Barbie girl' on repeat can motivate Robert to do,  _even_ actually socialise, when all he wants to do is bury himself under the covers. Lisa had left for New York left, their semester romance having ended. Robert had wanted to make it work, ('clingy much Rob' Lucy had joked) but Lisa made it clear that her exchange was over, and long distance just wasn't on the table. So Robert had begrudgingly driven her to the airport, gave her one last kiss and watched her walk through the departure doors, metaphorically and literally ending their relationship.   

That had been four days ago, and Robert was well.  _Yeah,_ he was sulking, he's allowed okay? Breaks ups were hard, and Lisa and him had been together since pretty much the beginning of the semester, he got used to  _things._ Being single again wasn't the easiest thing in the world.

('Honest to god Robert, if I see you moping around on our couch for a second longer I might puke.')

So Robert had let Lucy, drag him out with her. Mid-week drinking wasn't really Robert's sort of thing, Thursdays were jump packed, and being on scholarship didn't leave him much room for faking a sickie when he's got a first class average to maintain. But he's got to admit, the pub's not bad, There's a good crowd in tonight and it's not just first years trying to drink their weight in beer. He's playing darts with, Oliver, a lad from the economics elective he's taking and losing spectacularly when he sees him.

He's sitting at the bar alone, nursing a pint and something in Robert's stomach shifts. Here's the thing, Robert's  _sort_ of out. Meaning his friends at uni know, but that's pretty much it. He'd almost had a stroke back in first year, when he'd blurted it out to Alex, his then roommate, and  _now_ third flat mate. It had been after they'd gotten back to their dorm, both absolutely pissed and it had just tumbled out. To his credit, Alex hadn't even blinked, but Robert guessed the gay brother probably helped in that department. First year, had been an  _experience,_ it was the one place where he could totally be himself without fear of judgement, because his dad, just wouldn't understand. It's the reason his being with guys, but they usually end in one night stands, too scared to take things any further.

"Mate, stop starting and go buy him a drink, you've already lost."

Robert laughs, throwing Oliver a wink, before heading over. It's a little quieter on this side of the bar, there's less going on. Steeling himself, Robert takes the seat beside him, pressing his lips together. 

"Come here often?" he asks,  _smooth._

"Who me?" the guy asks, looking a little shocked at being talked to, "Nah it's actually my first time, I was meant to be meeting a mate but he got hung up at his girlfriend's house."

"Well his loss is my gain, how about you little me entertain you till he gets here," he smirks. 

 _His fit,_ fitter even up close. Fresh faced, and clearly a first year but he's got some scruff to him. Those  _blue eyes_ and gelled back hair, his definitely Robert's type, and Robert isn't ashamed to admit he has one, it's not a crime to know what he likes. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Yeah, sure I'd love one. I'm Aaron by the way."

 _Aaron,_ Robert likes the sound of that. "Robert looks like I owe your mate for being late." 

 

 

 

 

It's passed might-night when Robert arrives back at his flat. He shuffles through the door and manoeuvres his way out of his jacket without breaking stride at his heads of the kitchen. His fridge is mostly empty, but he has got three bottles of wine and a carton of eggs sitting on the shelf. His half tempted to just let a glass of wine be his dinner, but just as he reaches for the bottle, his stomach starts to grumble. So he settles for boiling himself some eggs and cutting up a couple of pieces of bread to dunk in. Eggs with soldiers was always his favourite growing up. His mum would make it, as a pick me up treat whenever he felt poorly. 

When he's got everything cut up and plated, he plonks down on the couch and turns on the telly, letting Whatever's on BBC one play in the background to distract him from his own thoughts. The wedding had clearly been a mistake,  _everyone_ thought so—but he just  _had_ to go. Angrily he dunks a soldier into the yoke, stuffing it into his mouth. This hold Aaron had on him, it had to stop, the  _pictures,_ running every time he so much as called it was pathetic.  

Aaron had moved on. He'd made that clear, and Robert couldn't keep going on like this. The past, eat away at him, tearing him up piece by piece from the inside and he knows if he doesn't learn to let go, it was going to kill. 

His phone beeps then, the screen lighting up. After whipping his hands with a bit of kitchen roll, he picks the mobile, and low and behold it's Aaron's name on the screen.  _Of course,_ without hesitation, Robert taps ignore. He wasn't going to give Aaron any more power, he was done with that. 

 

 

 

 

"Don't worry Aaron, if they're really  _your_ friends they'll stand by you. Though I don't know if I would, knowing my friends had cheated working class families at the end of their ropes. That's right boys and girls, Cain Dingle,  _hero,_ aman of the people, cheated my father, who's only crime was trying to raise enough money for my mother's treatment. I don't get it! How do you sleep at night?" 

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you leave."

They stood there, all menacing look,  _yeah_ let's get the riff raff out because that's what he was wasn't he? He trembles slightly, anger ebbing away into upset. That farm had meant everything to his parents, to his  _mother,_ it was all they had. None of them cared, not really, all those dinners for charity, the cheques it was just to make themselves feel better, about living it up while others couldn't even out food on the table. 

Robert shakes his head, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He lets the glass drop, shattering against the marble floor, getting down from the chair. "It's fine, I was leaving anyway."

They follow him though, until he's out of the building, and standing on the street where he  _belongs._ "Fuck," he screams, running a hand violently through his hair pulling at the roots. He wants to punch, he wants to hurt, he just wants to do  _something._

"Robert," Aaron whispers, approaching him. He hates it,  _hates his name leaving Aaron's lips._ It feels dirty and wrong. The air's cold, the wind like blades, cutting against his cheek, he just wants to go back, go back to not knowing, because it  _hurts,_ it hurts too much to think about.

"You knew,  _you knew_ and you didn't tell me," he accuses, and it's hate, his words are laced with, hate for his heart being stamped on, for the way they played with his life—his families lives and didn't even care. When he thinks about it, thinks about all the lives and families Cain must have ruined, the force of it almost knocks him off his feet. "We lived in a two room council flat, did you know  _that._ For years, until my dad meet Diane. Shared a fucking mattress, and you let me drink with that—with that  _thing._ "

"What good would it have done? We can't change the past Robert, it's already happened. I didn't want to hurt you any more than you already have been! I knew you wouldn't be able to bear it."

Robert breaths in heavy, his heart pounding against his chest "I haven't spoken to my father in  _months,_ " he bites out "for you! I came out for you, so we could be together and all the while you knew, you knew and you didn't tell me."

Aaron walks the short distance to him, pulls at him, hands on Robert's face, foreheads touching, "I lied to protect you because I love you. You have to forgive me, you have to forgive me this."

Robert lets out a sob, pulls away, untangles himself from Aaron, from his touch that should feel warm, but only feels cold, "I can't.—I don't have it in me to forgive this. I just  _don't._ "

 

 

 

 

He calls in sick, his not, but frankly, his never called in a sick since they day he started at the paper, even when he actually was sick so he feels entitled. Shoots Lawrence a short email, tacking on a promise to work from home ( _maybe_ ) and promises himself his not going to get out of bed until tomorrow. Or at least that was the plan until Victoria had shown up unannounced having caught the train into the city.

Robert had been asleep, startled awake by pounding on his door. He pads over, on his sock cladded feet to the door, and stares into the peep hole, eyes catching his sisters figure through the misty glass.

"Vic?" he says, surprised opening the door.

"What the hell happened yesterday?" she exclaims. As she walks past, she shoves a paper at Robert's chest, giving him no choice but to take it. 

"What are you on about?" he says, confused. "Do you mean the wedding? Because you were right, going was a terrible idea, I just want to forget it ever happened."

"That might be hard considering." She nudges at the paper with her head. 

What was going on? Slowly Robert looked down at the front cover of the paper, it's a red top, tabloid.  _The Mirror,_ what he sees has him gaping. It's Aaron and Jacob, no it's not just them, it's Robert's  _too._ Luckily though, from the way the photo is framed, only the back of Robert's head is in the shot. The headline reads 'Dingle in love with another man?'

"Oh no."

"Oh yes, what did you do, Robert? I thought you said you were going for closure, not to stop the damn thing."

"Clearly this is a pack of lies Vic,  _nothing happened._ At least not on my end. Jacob stopped the wedding not me".

"Then why are you in the picture?" she hisses. 

"I'd left the church because I couldn't hack it. I said I could but when push came to shove, I couldn't watch him go through with it. I just happened to be there when Jacob stormed out of the church that's all."

Robert thought they'd be talk, but he had no idea it would be front cover  _talk._ Then again  _The Mirror,_ loved this stuff, so Robert shouldn't really be all that surprised. "I've not been named have I?" he asks, running his palm across his face.

She shakes her head, "No, not  _yet._ But you know what they're like, they'll snoop and find out who you are and when they do they'll have a field day."

 _Fuck,_ there were moments when it felt like, life couldn't catch Robert a break, and this, this was one of them. Lawrence would kill him if his name got dragged through some tabloid scandal. He was meant to be above this, how would anyone take him seriously as a journalist, if they found out his love life was scattered across the front page of a paper who's highest grossed article was on how ghettoes could be the answer to all Britain's problems.

"That must have been why Aaron called me last night, they obviously couldn't stop it going to print. I didn't  _answer_ because I—I thought he was going to tell me he went through with it."

"What are you going to do now?"

He sits down at the kitchen table, picking up his keys, and playing with the end of the keychain "pray they don't find out it was me because the last thing I want to do is  _beg_ Lawrence for forgiveness."

 

 

 

 

Robert's heads pounding, he squints in order to see the time on his phone, it's a little after seven, his not totally screwed yet. There's a warm body pressed against him, and Robert regains enough consciousness to remember what happened last night. He's got  _Aaron Dingle_ in his bed, a fucking Dingle. He'd nearly had a stroke when he'd taken out his wallet, having insisted on buying for the next round and Robert had caught sight of his ID. 

('Dingle? As in  _The Dingle's._ Uncle in Parliament, and all that?')

Aaron had laughed but admitted he was Cain Dingle's nephew. That family took to politics like a fish took to water, half of them were politicians the other half were lawyers. A combination that made them not only important but deadly. His mother, the rebel of the group, had ended up an Architect, he guessed for a Dingle, that was rebellious. Robert was surprised though, by how different Aaron looked, so down to earth. Most kids from his background would be out clubbing, dressed to the nines, but he'd sat in some dive pub, wearing tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie.

It suited him, Aaron had this quietness to him, it pulled Robert in, in more ways than one.

The beds warm, and Robert doesn't want to leave, but if he stalls this any longer he's not going to be able to have a shower, and he can smell himself, his rank. Genteelly he untangles himself, earning a groan from Aaron.

"Go back to sleep," he mumbles, pulling Robert back down.

He smiles, "I'd love to sunshine, but I've got to have a shower before I head. We had a  _little_ too much fun last night."

Aaron laughs, shuffling to lie on his back, whipping the sleep from eyes with the bottom of his palms. "We could always skive, and have some more."

"As tempting as that is, I can't." He throws the covers off himself, bracing the cold as he heaves himself out of bed. He leans down and presses a kiss to Aaron's lips. "Feel free to sleep some more though, grab something to eat. The cupboards are labelled with our names. Alex had got a  _thing_ with sharing food."

Aaron nods, pouting slightly. It has Robert's heart fluttering in a way, it never has before. He bites his lip hard, stops himself. Robert doesn't do this with guys, doesn't allow himself this, he can't. What would he do? Show up with a  _boyfriend._ That would be a sure fire way to send his father to an early grave. 

"You sure I can't convince you to come back to bed?" Aaron's got his bare leg sticking out of the covers, up to his thigh. And all Robert wants to do is give in, climb underneath the covers and just have fun. But  _History of the media_ awaits, and Robert knows the score, knows he needs a near perfect attendance. He doesn't get to be  _Aaron Dingle,_ who can skive whenever he wants because his parents can actually afford the fees. Who can just have fun, and enjoy being a student without a care in the world. Robert doesn't have that luxury.    

"Afraid not," he hums, grabbing a towel from the wardrobe and heading out the door towards the bathroom. When he closes the bedroom door, and his alone, he leans against it. His bedroom comes out into the kitchen, which is empty. His stomach is still in knots, he feels like h _e's_  in trouble. Like Aaron is gonna be trouble for him but he shakes off the feeling because Aaron's just going to be a name on a list, a list of people he had one night stands with in university because that's what you  _did._ Nothing more than that. 

 

 

 

 

Victoria stays for the morning, she runs down the bakery just down the street, and they have breakfast together. Robert misses her, doesn't see her nearly enough during the summer, when she's not in the city. He's so used to having her to himself in the winter, that he forgets he has to  _share._ She tells him about the holiday their dad's planning, a trip to South Africa for the family, and that of course, Robert's invited. Though he thinks that's more down to Diane than it was to his dad. They'd been rocky, slowly building back up their relationship, he still doesn't understand, still doesn't want to understand, but as long as Aaron and him were no longer an item, Jack was willing to put the past behind them.  _How nice of him._

He'd known his father was never going to be okay with it, he'd known it when he'd come out and made it clear where Jack could stick his beliefs. But that was a lifetime ago now, back when Robert felt fearless, protected by Aaron's love. Things were different now, Robert was different now. It wasn't like he planned on getting into any relationship anytime soon, so building a bridge with his dad had seemed like the most logical solution. Even if that bridge wouldn't last forever.

She'd left before lunch, promising to call when she got home. Robert had taken one look at the front cover of that tabloid and changed into his running gear. Like he said,  _he runs._ He wishes sometimes, he could go back to that night at the bar, wishes he could warn his younger self not to do it. Don't go over there, it's a mistake. Other times, he wishes he'd remained in the dark, wishes he'd never talked to Patrick (he thinks that was the guy's name) that night, and learnt the truth. 

Because at least when he was in the dark he was  _happy_ and  _loved._ When he dreams of that night, which he does every so often, his mind also relives the past, never alters the series of events because Robert will always choose the truth. Even if he wishes he wouldn't, it's just the way he's wired. To uncover the wrong doings in this world, and shine a light in the darkest places. In his dreams he always finds out the truth, he always, he always exposes it in the same way—sometimes though, in his dreams he forgives him. It's the only thing the dreams ever change. Sometimes he finds it in himself to forgive Aaron, can bear the weight, most of the time he wishes that part of the dream was true.  _Most._

 

 

 

 

"Don't it. Don't walk away," Aaron croaks, "don't walk away from me." He's got a tight grip on Robert's arm, having taken hold of it when Robert had made to leave. It used to be anchoring,  _his touch._ Sometimes, he all felt like too much, and Aaron's touch was all he needed to weigh in down, stop him from floating away. Not now, he just feels stick, trapped. 

What he was asking, it was more than Robert could give, it was more than he could bear. He was asking him to forgive, to the unforgivable. If Robert stayed, it would be like he was forgiving  _that thing,_ forgiving the unforgivable  _monster_. His mother had been dying, the last attempt to save her was an experimental drug not covered by the NHS, so with a heavy heart his father had sold, the dream they had, had together, they're childhood dream, to a company that would use his vulnerability to profit.

He  _couldn't._

"You haven't left me much of a choice," he mumbles out. He places his hand over Aaron's until the younger releases him from his iron hold. Robert manoeuvres himself, so his standing in front of Aaron, uses the side of his hand to stroke his cheek. Fingers trembling as he touches Aaron's skin.

"I  _loved you._ " 

He turns then, runs as fast as his feet would carry him, and doesn't look back.   

 

 

 

 

 

When he gets back to his apartment, he's sweating buckets, hair wet and shirt damp. The lift doors open, and he makes his way down the hall, until he stops dead in his tracks, blind-sighted because, Aaron's standing outside his front door, dressed down, but still looking sharp.

"You weren't answering any of my calls," he explains, shaking his phone for good measure. 

Robert's eyes trail to Aaron's hand, to the engagement ring still sitting on his finger "for a reason," Robert manages to get out.

Aaron sighs, "I just want to talk, just hear me out."

 _That sentence._ It's not the first time Aaron had asked him that, asked him to  _hear him out._ That day, after the wedding, Aaron had left Robert a message, begged him to try and understand, to meet him, to give him another chance. But Robert had deleted it, he just couldn't, not then. 

"Alright."     

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me @victoriasugden


End file.
